Now and then

Bruno, Beefy and Beardsley did it. But these days sport stars don't don tights. Oliver Irish thinks it a matter of some regret

Sunday 2 December 2001Observer Sport Monthly

It was the panto to end all pantos. Becks dazzled as Prince Charming, cheered on from the royal box by Posh and Brooklyn. The Neville brothers, with their renowned comic timing, were naturals as the Ugly Sisters (with the promising Luke Chadwick as understudy, filling in on those nights when Phil complained of a tight hamstring). And the kids loved Juan Sebastian Veron's Ali G cameo - although the sight of the Argentine midfielder dressed in a pimp costume confused the pensioners as much as it seemed to confuse Veron himself. The one blot on an evening of magical entertainment ('Theatre of Dreams!' shouted the Sun's front page) was the performance of Paul Scholes. Audience and critics alike agreed that he was miscast as Buttons. 'Mr Scholes is less charismatic than MDF,' thought Nicholas de Jongh, the Evening Standard's theatre critic.

Sadly, it's not going to happen - the days of our sporting heroes making clowns of themselves in panto would seem to be over. Today's stars are either so rich they don't have to resort to eight weeks suffering at Lincoln's Theatre Royal or, like Vinnie Jones, too image-conscious to risk ridicule. Jones is well aware that playing Alderman Fitzwarren to Dannii Minogue's Dick Whittington is not a viable career move in the eyes of Hollywood's casting agents: 'I want to be a big player,' Jones said as he embarked on his acting career. 'I've been offered pantos and turned them down - they didn't do Frank Bruno any favours.'

Oh yes they did (let's get that out of the way now). Following in the footsteps of eighteenth-century boxing legend Mendoza the Jew (the first sports star to tread the boards, Mendoza appeared in Robinson Crusoe in 1791 and sparred with Man Friday), Frank used his Equity card to carve out a lucrative panto career. He is by far Britain's biggest sports star-turned-panto king. At the height of his fame, in the early Nineties, Bruno was earning a staggering £16,000 a week. By 1999, although he was down to a mere 10 grand a week, starring as The Ringleader in Goldilocks in Woking, he was still one of the best-paid stars on the panto circuit. 'Some people will call me a pansy, prancing for money,' Frank admitted back in 1996. 'What am I supposed to do with the rest of my life - sit on my backside, lie in bed till dinner-time? Panto is a way into a different career, and I need to work. If enemies put me down as an idiot, so be it. They have been accusing me of selling out for years.'

But could Frank act? The Daily Telegraph's Kate Bassett was not convinced when watching Bruno star (co-star Sooty) in Goldilocks and the Three Bears at Southampton's Mayflower Theatre in 1998. 'He is affable and cuts a fine figure in scarlet breeches,' she wrote, 'but his bass mumbles are hard to decipher and his character is redundant. We have to journey to a gym to provide the champ with a song-and-dance number.'

Ian Botham, along with Bruno the most famous sportsman to pull on a pair of tights, fared no better at the hands of the critics. When Botham was overlooked for England's tour of Australia in 1991, he took the role of the King in Jack and the Beanstalk at the Bradford Alhambra. The casting of Botham was suggested by his co-star Max Boyce. 'The panto needs sports people because it's very physical in parts. We have three fight scenes with the giant,' said Boyce. He wasn't referring to Mike Gatting.

Botham's performance drew mixed reviews. The Daily Express's Maureen Paton had harsh words for the man who would be King: 'The expressionless Botham is the only wooden thing on stage apart from the beanstalk and even that projects itself better.' Our own Julie Welch was kinder: 'I can confirm that Botham brings gravitas and egalitarianism to the part of the King.'

As you might expect of the man, Beefy hurled himself into his new job. 'Once I put on that costume, I am the King,' he said in genuine Gielgud style.

A life on the boards clearly appealed to Botham's nature: 'You leave here at 11.30 at night and you are so hyped up you can't get to sleep... In many ways it's a bigger buzz than you get at the end of a Test match... And I tell you what, I'm better paid in pantomime than I ever was in a bloody Test match, by a long way.'

Inspired by Bruno and Botham, in the Nineties it seemed every British sports star wanted a piece of the action. In that decade we endured Kriss Akabusi in Dick Whittington (the former hurdler co-starred with Bergerac's John Nettles), Peter Beardsley in Sleeping Beauty (he impressed as 'King Pedro of Gallowgate' in a part written specially for him), Tessa Sanderson as Girl Friday in Robinson Crusoe, John Virgo in Dick Whittington and Geoff Capes in Aladdin at Rhyl's Pavilion Theatre.

So why did the work dry up for our sporting thespians? The answer lies with those tanned beefcakes, the Gladiators. Jet, Hunter, Lightning and co muscled in on the action midway through the Nineties and things were never the same after that. In the eyes of panto producers up and down the country, Wolf v Geoff Capes was not the most difficult casting decision.